


It's Only A Matter Of Time

by mistyegg



Series: Midnight Oil [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 03:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18731005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyegg/pseuds/mistyegg
Summary: Prompt: The old photos made her conscious of her age, of how much time had passed - and of what an interesting life she'd had.





	It's Only A Matter Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> title from who lives who dies who tells your story bc the prompt gives big vibes.

John is by her side when she wakes up, sun pouring and hands shaking. “Alexander?”   
  
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”   
  
John doesn’t look much like his father - skin more pale and nose more rounded, yet not pointed like her own. But his eyes expressed the kindness she hadn’t seen in too long, and his voice was as deep and poetic as she remembers his to be. She sees Alexander in her son’s eyes, and can’t comprehend whether it’s because she’s growing too old or because she’s desperate fifty years on.

John, ever the observationist, softens his looks and toughens his grip. “Mother…”

“Thank you, John,” she whispered. Eliza’s hands shook more violently as she gripped harder. “You have done so much for me, since you were only eight and your father passed.”   
  
John didn’t bother correcting her; he was eleven when Alexander walked onto the battlefield at Weehawken and didn’t return home. Instead, he shifts in his seat so he’s pressed to the bed frame, still clutching her. Her breath stutters as she talks. “After our dear Angelica… Trinity Church. We have to go-”   
  
“It’s November,” He cut her off, pushing her gently down into the bed, which barely crinkled under her weight. She let out a small sound of complaint, but only looked up to her son with wide eyes. “Did I… do enough?”   
  
John smiled. “You did so much, mother. I’m sure pa would’ve been delighted by all the things you did.”   
  
Eliza smiled back at him, looking to break into a sobbing fit she was prone to these days. “He would’ve done amazing things if he had more time.”   
  
“He would’ve,” John mused, feeling her grip loosen. “Show him what you did, mother. He’d be oh so proud.”   
  
“I hope so… I can’t wait to see him.”   
  
“I know.”


End file.
